


I Came to Pick You Up

by Chash



Series: You Didn't Even Hesitate [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Frontier, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 00:06:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12875958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: It's possible, of course, that he and Clarke will still have children of their own, Bellamy knows that.But in the meantime, they don't need to have a child to get one. That's where the orphanage comes in.





	I Came to Pick You Up

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for [carrieeve](http://carrieeve.tumblr.com/)!

“It’s not giving up on a baby,” Bellamy reminds Clarke, once he’s stopped the buggy, and she ducks her head, smiling.

“It is, actually, but in a good way.”

It’s not the answer he was expecting. “I don’t think I know what the good way is, in this case,“ he admits, keeping his tone careful.

“I know you want children. Once we have one, the pressure will be off. If we end up having more than one, either because we have our own or because we decide we’d like to adopt more, then I’ll be happy. But I won’t be worrying about it any longer.”

Bellamy reaches over to squeeze her hand. “You never had to worry. But I understand why you were.”

“It didn’t make me miserable,” she says. “I knew you didn’t mind. But I think we’re ready to start a family, and I don’t see why we should wait for a pregnancy to come along. Not when the world is full of children who need homes.”

“Thank goodness,” he teases. “I’d hate to have to turn around and go back when we came all the way to the orphanage.”

“If nothing else, it’s been a nice trip.”

That much is true. They left the ranch the previous day once the morning chores were done and spent the evening in the city. It’s not a city like Philadelphia or Boston, smaller and with much less history, but it had been nice to get away, to go somewhere special just with Clarke. Travel isn’t easy, not something they’ll do often, but going to the city sometimes could be nice.

Of course, after this, they’ll have a child to consider too. But that’s the good kind of consideration to have.

The matron comes down to greet them, a stern, no-nonsense woman who raffles down a list of questions about what they want that sounds like she says so often she’s memorized it. There’s something almost distasteful about the whole thing to Bellamy, coming to a place and listing preferences for a family member. Even when he put out the ad for Clarke, it hadn’t felt as much like picking and choosing.

Besides, people are supposed to choose their own spouses. Children don’t work the same way.

Clarke is practical, though. “It’s a lot of time outdoors, so one who doesn’t mind hard work. We have livestock as well as pets, they can’t be afraid of animals. An older child, nine to twelve or so.”

“And you said you’d prefer a girl?”

From what Bellamy has read, girls are less likely to get adopted, especially out here, and from the matron’s dubious tone, she thinks they’d be better off with a boy, if those are their requirements.

“Yes, a girl.”

She nods. “Well, I have a couple who might do. Let me go and fetch them.”

Once they’re alone again, Clarke puts her arm through his and squeezes. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”

“I know. I still don’t like taking one and rejecting the others.”

“We’re not rejecting the others. We only want one. We can’t adopt the entire orphanage.”

“I know.”

“We could have just written and had them send one.”

“I know.” He exhales. “It’s fine.”

“If we do well with this one, we can get more,” she says, and even though she’s mentioned it before, it still always takes him off guard.

“Can we?”

“Why not? We don’t have so much space, but we could add to the house. If our finances are stable, I don’t see why we couldn’t keep on adopting orphans. There are plenty who need it.”

It’s all logical and practical, but still strange to him. He’s always been happy with the idea of adoption, assumed that if he didn’t marry, that would be how he got help on the ranch. It seemed perfectly logical to him, but most people prefer their own children.

He wouldn’t mind those either, but he has a soft spot for orphans.

“I love you,” he tells Clarke, and she leans her head on his shoulder, just for a second.

“I love you too.”

The matron returns with three girls who appear to be fairly similar. They all have brown hair in varying shades, and they’re all too thin and dirty, clothes fraying.

They can’t take three girls right now. Not if they want to treat them well. They can take one, and if they’re good at it, they can see about more.

“This is Elizabeth, Modesty, and Katherine,” says the woman, gesturing to each girl in turn. “Girls, this is Mr. and Mrs. Blake. They want a little girl to come live on their ranch and help with the chores.”

Bellamy pulls a face at the presentation of their motives, but Clarke doesn’t falter. “Do any of you have experience with horses? Cattle?”

The girl in the middle, Modesty, raises her hand. “I do, ma’am. My brother worked on a ranch ‘fore he died.”

“Your brother?” Bellamy asks, and Clarke smiles a little.

Modesty nods. “Our parents died when we was little. He took care of me, then he got a fever.”

“I see,” says Clarke, and she asks more questions, but they’re both listening with only half an ear.

That’s all it takes; the decision is already made.

The matron sends the girls back to their rooms once they’re done, for which Bellamy is grateful. They must know only one of them will be taken, if he and Clarke decide to take one at all, and they don’t need to hear from him that they aren’t wanted.

If it goes well, they can always take more. But maybe they won’t do as well as he thinks.

“Would you like to meet any of our other girls?” asks the matron. “Do you have any questions? Would you like some privacy to talk it over?”

“No, that’s fine,” says Clarke. “We’d like to take Modesty.”

“Excellent, I’m glad to hear it. I’ll take you down so you can get your buggy ready and then go and fetch her for you.”

It feels as if it should be more difficult, getting another human, but he supposes they’re already doing all they have to to produce one of their own. Just because Modesty has already been born, why should it be so much harder?

They have a daughter now. It’s that simple.

Modesty doesn’t have much to bring, just one old bag, and it must not have taken her long to pack, because by the time they’ve brought the buggy around, she’s ready to go.

“You don’t need more time?” Bellamy asks, frowning. “To say goodbye? We’re not in a rush.”

She shakes her head. “No, sir.”

He and Clarke exchange a look, but they’ll have plenty of time to talk on the way home, and discuss what she should call him. “All right,” he says instead. “Let me take your bag, I’ll put it in the back. You should fit between the two of us, and then we’ll all be able to talk.”

“Yes, sir.”

Clarke says the polite goodbyes to the matron while Bellamy helps Modesty into the buggy. And then, all at once, they’re on the road, heading home with their new orphan between them.

Clarke breaks the silence first. “How old are you, Modesty?”

“Ten, Mrs. Blake.”

Clarke opens her mouth and then changes her mind, glancing at Bellamy for help. It’s uncharted territory for him too, but he does have more experience with children, at least. “Calling us Mr. and Mrs. Blake is going to get old fast. We’re not much for ceremony. What would you like to call us?”

It’s Modesty’s turn to pause, worrying her lip with her teeth as she considers her answer. “I don’t know.”

“Why don’t we start with Christian names?” Clarke suggests. “That’s what we call each other, so it’s easiest. I’m Clarke, and this is Bellamy.”

“My brother said it was rude to call adults by their Christian names.”

“I told my sister that was rude too,” Bellamy says. “But she never listened to me.”

Modesty perks up. “You have a sister?”

“I do. She lives down the road from us, she’ll probably come over to meet you today or tomorrow.” He clears his throat. “Our parents passed away, too. My father when I was a baby, my mother later. I brought her out here to start a new life.”

“That’s what my brother did too. He came out here to get a job, after Ma and Pa died.”

“What was his name?”

“Merit.”

“When did he pass?”

“Three years ago, now.”

“Did you go straight to the orphanage?” Clarke asks.

Modesty shakes her head. “No. I stayed with them–the family my brother was working for. For a bit. But I was too small to do work like he could, and they couldn’t afford to feed me when I wasn’t useful. But I was!” she adds, quickly. “Not so much as him, but I was learning. I like animals.”

“That’s good,” says Clarke. “We have horses and cattle and chickens, and two dogs for pets. We’ll expect you to help with chores, but you don’t have to earn your supper.”

“Then why do you want me?” she asks, sounding distrustful. “Matron said you wanted someone who didn’t mind hard work.”

“You’ll be working, but you’re not here to work.” Bellamy considers, trying to figure out the right way to explain. “We’ve been married for two years now, and we’ve had no luck having children. We’re ready for a family, so we thought we’d make our own. If it goes well and we can afford it, we’ll probably adopt more.”

“So you can’t have your own?” she asks.

“We might,” Clarke says. “It can take a long time. But if we do, they’ll just have brothers and sisters.”

Modesty doesn’t look convinced, and Bellamy can’t say it surprises him. If he were her, he’d be worrying about being cast aside as soon as a natural child comes along, thought of as lesser. There’s nothing that will reassure her about that except time and coming to trust them though, so he asks, “You said your brother came out this way after your parents died. Where are you from?”

Between him and Clarke, they draw her out slowly. She’s from near Boston, so she and Clarke can talk about the city. Clarke talks around her parents, never outright lying, but not telling her the full truth either. Modesty is suspicious but honest, from what he can tell, mostly because she sees no reason to lie about anything. She’s had a small, unremarkable life, outside the tragedy of losing her family, and she doesn’t seem interested in pretending she had anything else.

Bellamy knows he doesn’t have a lot either, not in the grand scheme of things. But he has the things he always dreamed of, when he was young and poor and scared. His sister is safe and well, with a husband and a child. He has a place of his own, a plot of land to work, and a wife who loves him to work it with him.

It should be enough, to offer a child. Enough to give her a good, happy life, the kind of life she deserves.

“That’s the Jordan farm there,” he tells her, pointing to his left. “It’s on the border of town. There’s not a lot out here, but we’ll go right through the middle, so you can get a good look at what there is.”

“Bellamy does a great tour,” Clarke teases, and he rolls his eyes.

“You know where everything is, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“So you give the tour. I’m driving.”

Clarke starts pointing out landmarks, not just buildings and roads, but the lake where they went swimming last summer, places she likes to sketch. After two years, he no longer worries that Clarke isn’t happy, that she wants more than what they have, but it’s nice to see her showing off her favorite things, to hear all the ways she belongs here.

“And that’s our ranch coming up,” she says. “That’s my horse watching us.”

“How many horses do you have?” asks Modesty.

“Four, right now. Do you know how to ride?”

“Not well. My brother was teaching me, when he died.”

“You can learn. Bellamy taught me, he’ll teach you too. These horses might be too big, but we could look for a pony for you.”

Modesty looks at Clarke like she’s trying to see inside her, and Clarke looks back, calm and cool. “I’d like that,” she finally says.

“Good. We can see about that tomorrow, when we go into town for new clothes. If there are things you want, you can tell us, Modesty,” she adds, voice gentle. “We want to take care of you.”

“Madi,” she says. “My brother, he used to call me Madi.”

Bellamy pulls the buggy to a stop and hops out, stretching a little before he offers his hand. She takes it, and they stand next to each other, looking out over the ranch.

“Well then,” says Clarke, jumping out of the buggy to join them. “Welcome home, Madi.”


End file.
